Happy Brithday (Steve Rogers x Depressed Reader)
by Star-Spangled-Gal-With-A-Plan
Summary: It's your birthday. You should be happy, shouldn't you? Well, you're not and everything just seems to drag you down until you can't take it anymore. You just, you can't go on and no one can say anything to change your mind. Or is there one person who can?


Steve Rogers x Depressed!Reader

You woke up with a yawn and looked around your dreary and honestly bleak apartment; rubbing the sleep from your eyes. It wasn't much: just a tiny bedroom that barely fit your bed, an even smaller bathroom that's sink almost never worked and a living room that wasn't much bigger than your bedroom that had a couch and small tv in one corner and a microwave and hot plate in the other. But as a college student barely making a living waitressing it was all you could afford.

You rolled over and plopped your feet onto the cold, concrete floor when your (e/c) orbs noticed an out of place bit of paper on your nightstand along with a red rose. Gingerly, you picked up the note. You recognized the handwriting immediately as your boyfriend's.

_"Dear (f/n),_

_Happy birthday my dear. I hope you have the wonderful day that such a perfect girl deserves. I hope to see you later to tell you this in person but, until then,_

_With love,_

_Steve_

_P.S. Meet me for lunch?"_

A small smile graced your lips as you hugged the note to your chest. Steve, undoubtedly because of when he grew up, was more for leaving each other little love note instead of texting or calling you with things like this. Really though, you didn't mind. Actually finding it rather sweet and were glad you could keep the notes forever.

You took the rose with you as you went to get ready for work, putting it in a glass of water by the one window the main room contained. You brushed your (h/c) hair and just took in the smell of the rose as you looked out over the city.

Today you only had to worry about making it through work. For some odd reason, all of your classes were canceled. You didn't even remember what the reason was, but were happy your 19th birthday was off to a wonderful start. It was days like this that made you wonder why you had considered ending it all as often as you did. Some of the guys on campus had even invited you to a party tonight, which was a nice surprise.

But as the day dragged on, it continued to remind you the answer to your question.

"You worthless piece of garbage! You expect me to keep paying you after you cost me all that money?!" your boss screamed at you as you stood in his office, humiliated. You and a co-worker had collided and each of you was carrying a full tray of food; spilling it all over both of you. In reality, it was only about two hundred dollars worth of food and was neither of your faults but, your boss loved to blame you for anything that goes wrong in the restaurant even if you weren't involved. You were pretty sure he was just looking for an excuse to fire you. Your co-worker and best friend, Maggie, didn't even get so much as being verbally reprimanded.

"I-i'm sorry boss. It was just an accident…." you said as you stared at the now very interesting pattern on the carpet.  
"An accident you say? Well that accident just cost you your paycheck and your job!" he yelled, procceded by much swearing and many insults being hurled at you. Then he practically threw you out of the restaurant.

You stood in the alley outside in tears, covered in scalding hot soup and your (h/c) hair colored white and green by mashed potatoes and salad. On top of that you still had the 26 block walk home. You couldn't help but feel your ever present depression bubbling back into your foremost thoughts and slowly consuming them.

You sighed and started to walk, looking at your watch. It was 4:58pm. You were supposed to have met Steve over 3 hours ago. You frowned and continued your walk home; your mood sinking lower. You knew he would understand; you still couldn't help but be sorry for leaving him there by himself without even a phone call to his very unused cell phone. You sighed and wiped away your tears; burying them inside, knowing they would come out later when you were alone. You were strong, you didn't need to cry. You could handle it without crying.

After your long walk home and long climb of 10 flights of stairs (since your apartment building didn't have an elevator), you were finally home and went straight into the shower. After washing your hair for about about the 10th time or so, having lost count after the 5th time, figured you had finally gotten all of the salad, mashed potatoes and macaroni soup out of you hair got out of the shower and started to style it for the party tonight.

First you brushed it, then dried it some and brushed it again. Now it was damp and perfect for weaving small and intricate braids, tying them together with a black velvet band and cascading curls from that. You pushed your depression back as well as you could and put on a smile. It was all you could do to hide the pain that was constantly hiding inside of you.

You checked the clock and saw that your ride would be there any minute, sighing you walked into the bedroom and slipped on the dress that you had laid out that morning. It was a (f/c) and silky cocktail dress that Steve had helped you pick out for something, you don't even remember what, but had yet to wear. It had short sleeves and criss-crossed lacing up the back. He had told you that you looked like a princess when you walked out of the dressing room wearing it. You smiled at the pleasant memory.

Now you had done it. You had reached your breaking point. You thought you had finally gotten used to the cruel tricks by now but in reality, like a knife they cut deeper and deeper every time; providing cheap laughs for others at your own expense seemed to be the only thing people liked you for. That was the only reason you had been invited tonight, so they could laugh and make a fool of you and you couldn't take it anymore. The only person who didn't treat you like this was Steve. You didn't deserve him and tonight he would finally be free of you.

As you ran home, your vision clouded with tears and you felt yourself sliding deeper and deeper into a void that you would never return from. With shaky hands you unlocked your front door and ran in; shutting, locking it and doing up the door chain behind you. You needed to be alone; you needed and escape.

Old habits die hard and yours was even harder to kill. In the past few months you had fallen back to it; carefully hiding the marks on your wrists from your boyfriend's watchful eyes. He had enough to worry about without having to worry about you. But that was irrelevant now as you let your emotions flow free; painting your wrist scarlet.

The door knob jiggled slightly as someone tried to open it; followed by a soft knock and a call for you.

"(f/n)..?"

It was Steve. You ignored him, hoping he would assume you not home and just leave. You started to let the blade sink deeper into your skin. Tonight was the night it would end. Your misery. Your depression. Your life.

Steve's P.O.V.

You hadn't shown up for lunch and Steve was concerned. You always showed up for a date no matter how sudden the invitation was. Unless, you were having the worst of days and usually they had to be pretty bad for you to not show at all. When he finished up his nearly pointless paperwork at SHIELD (which had taken him hours longer than expected) he hopped onto his bike and rushed over to your apartment to make sure you were okay; stopping by your favorite flower shop on the way to pick up two dozen of your favorite flowers.

When he tried to open your door it was locked. That was odd. You never locked your door when you were home and you should have been home hours ago. You always told Steve your schedule so you two could be together as much as possible since you were both always busy. He knocked and called your name softly. You didn't answer and he knew something was wrong.  
With great haste, Steve unlocked the door with his key (you had given him the spare) and broke the door chain off when it kept the door from opening all the way. When he had gotten in you looked up and his sparkling blue eyes locked onto your tear filled (e/c) ones. His heart broke when he saw what you were doing but all he did was walk over to you and sit down next to you and watched.  
"Steve, go away….please… I just want to be alone."

"Are you really going to do this (f/n)?"

"Yes!" you snapped a bit more harshly than you meant. Then you sighed, "I just…. I can't take it anymore! Nothing good ever happens to me…" you said, looking down at your bleeding wrists.  
"Then I'm going to stay here with you. No one should have to be alone, even in death."

Steve was hoping to stall you and let rational thought take over. He loved you and his entire world was teetering on the thin blade of a sharp knife.

"No. I need to think and I can't think with you here!" you yelled, tears brimming in your eyes. Steve's heart broke as you forcefully drew the knife across your wrist again.  
"(f/n), I love you and I don't want you to ever feel like you are alone, especially not now."  
"If you love me, then why aren't you trying to stop me like everyone else who says that?"

"Because, if this is what you really want, it won't matter what I say or do and if you think this will make you happy, then that is all I care about."

You finally made eye contact with him even if only for a moment. You put the knife down.  
"I don't know what I want anymore…" you sighed, pulling your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth a sobs began to rack your chest. Steve smiled and pulled you into his lap, holding you tightly in his arms. He let you cry for a little while before speaking. He knew you more than needed to let it out.

"(f/n)?" he said in a soft whisper. You lifted your head and looked into his shining blue eyes. Steve wiped the tears from your cheeks, a smile lighting up his features.

"A reason. That is what you really want isn't it? A reason to live?" he asked, you looked at him questioningly and he continued, "(f/n) (l/n), will you continue to be my reason? My reason to be a better man and to be Captain America? Will you marry me?"

Your P.O.V.

You looked at him for a moment, wondering if he was joking. It was Steve though, he hardly ever joked about serious things like this. One look into his eyes told you he was serious and your smile was enough to tell him your answer. He pulled a small, black velvet box from his jacket and grinned; slipping a small diamond ring onto your finger.

After that, he patched up your wrists; sewing some of the deeper cuts and bandaging them. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear, "Steven Grant Rogers, you are my hero and I love you."  
"I love you too my dear, Happy Birthday."

_Fin._


End file.
